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Little Commander
Last Updated:
2025-09-15 00:17:59Alexander
Sophie had a way of entering a room and immediately taking command, and I was quickly learning that resistance was futile. That morning, I found her perched on the rug with her miniature notebook open, her colored pencils lined up like soldiers. She looked up at me with that uncanny mix of seriousness and mischief only a three-year-old could wield.“Alexander!” she called. “You’re late for training!” I raised an eyebrow, pretending to check my nonexistent watch. “Late? I think I’m right on time, Commander Sophie.” She narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Time doesn’t matter if you’re not ready! Today, we practice protection drills and strategic retreats. Mommy says you’re strong, but you need to be smart too.”I crouched to her level, letting a small smile play across my face. “Smart and strong. That’s me. Lead the way, Commander.” Her face lit up as she grabbed my hand and tugged me into a convoluted obstacle course of pillows, ch
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Isla Hart’s POVAlexander patted my shoulder and retreated into his study. I let myself linger in the quiet. Sophie was still asleep, curled into her blankets like a tiny, perfect star. The house was calm, the kind of calm that felt like a luxury after years of storms.And yet… my mind drifted back. Three and a half years ago, the day I delivered Sophie. The sharp, relentless pain of labor, the sterile scent of the hospital, the unfamiliar weight of my tiny, wailing daughter in my arms. And the Blakes. Nathaniel and his mother, standing at the door, their faces a mix of expectation and entitlement.They had seen her. A baby girl. Nathaniel’s lips had pressed into a thin, tight line. Mrs. Blake’s eyes had narrowed, cold and calculating. And then, as if it were some trivial inconvenience, they walked out. Unabashed, unapologetic. “In the Blakes family,” Mrs. Blake had said over her shoulder, “daughters carry their mother’s last name.”
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Isla Hart’s POVThe sun had barely touched the city when I felt that familiar tightness in my chest. I shook it off, chalking it up to nerves. Sophie’s daycare pickup was usually a quiet affair, and I had planned to linger a little longer at Horizon Outreach today. But Sophie, as usual, had other ideas. “Mommy, Daddy’s coming?” she asked, tugging at my hand as we stepped onto the sidewalk.I froze mid-step, realizing what she meant. Alexander had told me last night that he would drop by to see how she had settled into her activities. My chest warmed. Sophie’s little mind had already painted Alexander as a safe harbor, a father, and I could see her small, eager face light up at the thought of his presence.We arrived at the daycare, Sophie practically bouncing in excitement, holding my hand. The gates swung open, and the familiar caretaker waved. I let out a quiet sigh, thinking today would be ordinary.But ordinary ended as soon as
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Isla Hart’s POVSophie had an uncanny way of keeping me on my toes. I should have known, given her intelligence, quick wit, and the sharp little glint in her hazel eyes. But today, she had surpassed anything I had imagined.I stepped into the kitchen, expecting the usual chaos of cereal boxes and juice stains, but instead found Sophie perched on a stool at the counter, a stack of notes and colored pencils before her. Alexander was beside her, leaning lightly against the counter, his hands folded behind his back, watching patiently.“What are you two up to?” I asked, curiosity piqued, though a part of me feared the answer. Sophie did not look up. “Planning our day,” she said simply, voice full of the certainty only a three-year-old could have. “You’re busy, Mommy, so I need Daddy to help me.” Alexander’s lips twitched, a small, amused smile. “I’m listening,” he said, crouching to her level. “What do you need me to do?”Sophie handed
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